


We Hit a Wall

by CorsetJinx



Series: Mistake in the Parting [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Mission Fic, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 18:43:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7326091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorsetJinx/pseuds/CorsetJinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the minute goes by faster than the feet. When the winter passes slowly as defeat. When the face of death is after her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Hit a Wall

The bark of a shotgun split the air, shattering any semblance of quiet that had managed to fall when she’d run. Run to secure the payload Winston had briefed her and her team on. The sound made her heart jump in her chest, not with excitement, not  _quite_  with fear. It managed to fill her with urgency, because this mission was too important for her to stumble through and ultimately fail. To ruin with mistake after mistake. She ran faster, drawing breath in quick gasps, and taking comfort in the solidity of her climatology equipment she’d re-purposed for a weapon.

Somewhere behind her, there came the clatter of what almost sounded like a thousand footfalls. The bark of an order, the snide remark of another. The ring of metal striking metal, her heavy boots smacking the concrete, overpowered the voices of those she was leaving behind. Surely her companions had picked up on her intentions and did not think that she was retreating from the battle as a coward. They thought more highly of her, she was certain, especially Tracer. With a boost of confidence, Mei picked up the pace.

She was going to protect the payload.

She could see it – attached to the crane just as it should be – and a quick scan from behind the rise and fall of her glasses as she ran provided a thin reassurance that there are no snipers lying in wait.

Not ones that she could see, anyway.

For just a moment Mei thought she could hear Tracer calling out someone’s name, too far away for her to be able to guess whether it’s in taunt or concern. She trusted the British woman to be able to hold her own, trusted in the team Winston picked even if she doesn’t recognize a good many of them.

Genji had seemed nice, from the little they had been able to speak before the mission.

She slowed down, turning just enough to erect a wall of ice around herself. She had to cover herself, as she was too far from her companions to be able to expect immediate assistance if something went wrong. It was the best defense she could think of, a wall of ice so high it nearly touched the ceiling. Practically impenetrable. Able to provide cover from sniper fire or an ambush from behind. The brunette was just about to face the controls she thought she could work when another shotgun blast split the air.

It was closer this time.

Much, much closer.

The Endothermic Blaster was jerked from her hand, clattering to the ground behind as the echoes of the shot died out. Smoke drifted up from the barrel of the gun, now aimed with its twin directly at her head.

The one holding it might have been a being out of someone’s nightmare, black and silver and a mask that could have been bone obscuring any human features.  _Reaper_ , her mind supplied from under the curious quiet that had descended over her mind. A mercenary that worked with Talon, an organization which had killed a number of former Overwatch agents and caused trouble for countless others.

Seconds ticked by as they stared at each other, sunlight cutting deep shadows across his figure that the reflections off her wall of ice couldn’t dispel.

Mei swallowed.

The whole world stuttered to a stop, chaos coming to a halt as if the world had been iced over. She thought of the crystalline blue that had encased her form so long ago, the sharp scent of cold that filled her nose, her senses. That unnamed scent... refreshing, pungent. She could easily fade into it, would have preferred that to the reality of the situation. If disappearing counted as murder, it was perhaps the kindest sort. Preferred over gazing down the barrel of either of the terrifying mercenary's twin shotguns. Light glinted off the chrome muzzle, the smoke having finally dissipated. Dark brown eyes focused upon the muzzle, watching the faint sway of the leftmost gun. Perhaps it was their sheer weight that made them move just a fraction at a time? Was she like that as well? When aiming with her blaster, she had always assumed her aim was fairly steady. 

With her heart in her throat, Mei's gaze rose from the guns, focusing instead on the steady rise and fall of the masked mercenary's chest. Strange... sometimes it didn't seem to rise and fall at all, more like faltering and growing still. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she found herself worrying at the soft flesh.

Funny... the kinds of thoughts that began to take center stage when death seemed inevitable.

Then, as though pulled by a magnet, the guns shifted and fired at the console instead. The sound and ensuing racket that followed made her jump, breaking the standstill that had fallen. She brought up an arm to protect her face, a yelp leaving her mouth. And waited. Waited for the sharp burning sensation of a bullet or two ripping through the fabric of her familiar parka and what clothing she wore beneath to get to her flesh. For the end of her life.

As the system continued to blare its emergency signal she raised her head, surprised to find that Reaper had disappeared.

Alone for the moment, surrounded mostly by untouched ice and metal, Mei tried to catch her breath.

Why? Why hadn't he killed her?

Her knees felt weak, a cold sweat beading along her temples. How long had they stood there, the claws of death just seconds from coiling around her, ceasing the panicked beating of her heart with the sharp puncture of it's claws? And yet, once more, she had escaped its grasp. But the question that lingered was simply... why? There was no conceivable reason for the climatologist not to have met her end right then and there. Unless, unless she just wasn't worth the bloodshed. But she was just as much a member of Overwatch as Dr. Ziegler or Tracer. Sure, he may have caught her unawares and shot her only weapon out of her hand –

Mei turned to the ice wall then, carefully making her way to her fallen weapon, finding that the hose which connected it to the rest of her equipment had been severed by Reaper's shotgun blast. He could have easily shot her wrist or forearm to dislodge the weapon from her, and yet he'd aimed for one of her biggest weaknesses. It didn't make her feel any better, it only reminded her that she hadn't been as observant as she should have been. She slowly crouched down, lifting the Endothermic Blaster out of the slowly forming puddle, her gaze softening as she lifted the weapon.

She knew better than to linger like this. To leave herself so open and exposed. She couldn't give up now, she had to do what she could for her fellow agents.

“Mei! Mei where – there you are,” Tracer's voice penetrated the fog of Mei's thoughts, bringing her back to the present. The taller woman seemed to blip into existence all of a sudden, seemingly oblivious to the streak of blue she left behind herself – light attempting to catch up to the chronologically unstable agent or simply the projection of an afterimage, Mei wasn't sure. Concern was evident on the other woman's usually perky features, brown eyes behind their orange-tinted visor flicking between the climatologist and the now ruined weapon in her hand. Tracer's expression shifted quickly between understanding and heartfelt sympathy before settling back into what Mei had begun to refer to as 'business mode'.

“Stay here, love.” A grin softened the firm tone the sleek brunette used, dual pistols in her quick hands faster than Mei could blink. “I'll go after that sod for you. Don't hesitate to hook it if your wall comes down or if it gets bad.”

Just like that, the other woman was gone – blue light trail the only indicator of her presence as she sped off. Mei only had a moment to wonder at Tracer's choice of language, unfamiliar slang rocking her understanding of English enough to cause a disconnect within her thoughts. Perhaps that was why her reaction was so slow, her attention focused inward for a crucial moment so that when the sound of something heavy colliding with the wall of ice she had raised for protection startled her so badly.

Whipping her head around Mei could see a shape sliding down the crystalline blue surface, several shades darker than the ice and familiarly human-shaped. The sound of metal over ice clicked within her brain and the climatologist had a fair idea of who it could be.

Before she could speak however, the crack of a shot split the air and made her flinch. Without realizing it she hunkered down, arms over her head and shut her eyes tight only to force them open again when she realized what she was doing. She was acting like a coward, a child. She wasn't as combat-savy as her fellows were; she was a scientist first and foremost. However, Mei had shared in their training for a brief time once, so reacting as she had was unforgivable. The climatologist turned, straightening up all the while, thinking to offer the cyborg what assistance she could.

Brown eyes swept over the sweating wall of ice, searching out the shape of the slightly older man. To her surprise and awe, the shape of Genji was gone from the ice. At some point while she pulled herself together, the Overwatch agent had pushed off the wall and left. A part of Mei did wonder what part she could play, weaponless and vulnerable. Her gaze drifted to the blaster she was still holding on to. If someone came close enough, she could easily bash them over the head with it, if worse came to worst... perhaps even using Snowball. The woman began to move toward the edge of the wall, making to cross onto the other side.

A sound like a scratchy sort of whine caught Mei's attention, so out of place in the surrounding environment. It made her quicken her pace around the edge of her wall, one hand braced to catch herself as she stumbled in her haste. She caught sight of Widowmaker sliding along a zip line, saw Genji move as though he intended to step aside from the woman's path.

How he did it, Mei could only guess. She thought she saw his arm move but what followed happened too quickly for her to grasp it entirely. The Talon sniper's descent was halted as the cyborg agent seized her extended leg and pulled her from her intended trajectory – a swing that seemed to be entirely too effortless on the swordsman's part sent the blue-skinned woman colliding directly with the slick ice wall.

The crack was loud, though not quite like a gunshot. Mei instinctively flinched at the sound, forcing her eyes open before she could fully tune out the scene. Even if she wished no such harm on anyone, the sniper was an enemy. An enemy who, despite having just been thrown with more force than an average person could muster, was slowly starting to get up. She saw Widowmaker's hand twitch, the slope of her shoulders shifting as the taller woman struggled to rise. The helmet that usually protected and guided the sniper's aim was in shambles, exposing the back of Widowmaker's skull.

Mei moved before thinking of it, aware only of the fact that the woman before her was still dangerous – that Widowmaker still had her gun within reach and could easily pull the trigger to hurt Genji even further. As the Frenchwoman started to stand, long tail of hair swaying as she fought for balance and cognition, Mei closed the distance between them and brought the muzzle of her ruined Endothermic Blaster down over the sniper's head.

Widowmaker jerked, letting out a surprised sound that was riddled with delayed pain, and collapsed once more.

The climatologist stood frozen over the prone figure, staring down at the woman's deceptively slack face in a fog of shock. It had worked, she realized. Her barely thought out plan was a success and so long as Genji wasn't too badly hurt -

Turning her head, Mei's eyes flicked around for any sign of the man. Relief rose in a dizzying wave when she found him standing, albeit unsteadily, and slowly picking his way over to where she stood. As he came closer he kicked the heavy looking assault rifle away from the unconscious woman's hand, grunting as he did so.

“Good riddance, don't you think?” Sunlight reflected off of the cyborg's helmet, green of his visor standing out against the metal. “We should move her, before –”

The noise was almost unnoticeable, easily missed in cacophony of noises, gunshots and shouts in the distance. A sound like a hiss, the whisper of wind dragging along sand and metal. The sound that only seemed to manifest whenever the thick, ominous miasma was present. The swirl of darkness so deep and dark that it begged to be considered abyss black. Wisps of smoke coiled away from the mass, dissipating shortly after separating from the epicenter. The swirling, voluminous miasma began to pull itself together, fragmented matter coalescing into the figure of the notorious mercenary. The sound of his laughter, deep and mocking, was the only warning they received before the killer raised his Hellfire shotguns.

Every fiber of Mei's being told her to retreat, now more than ever. She was a liability, even if she had previously gotten away from Reaper with her life. A stroke of luck like that was unlikely to strike twice. The scientist turned on her heel, her ears burning with the sound of the first two shots. The bullet had whizzed by so close to her head, if he had shifted the weapon just a little more to the right, she was certain it would have been a head shot. The ice in front of her cracked, white flakes bursting free in a flurry as the heavy artillery rounds pierced the melting ice wall. Another round found itself buried into the wall.

“Mei,” the hum of metal sliding against metal accompanied the sound of Genji's mechanically enhanced voice, “stay behind me.”

“I trust you.” The words left the climatologist's lips before any thought could be given to them. It did not take away from the truth deeply ingrained into the syllables of slightly foreign English, the cybernetic swordsman did possess a measure of her trust that she might not have placed in many others given the situation at hand. Even so, Mei's eyes strayed to the prone form of Widowmaker, the woman's long dark hair slightly coiled around her head.

Could Reaper be trusted not to shoot the downed sniper? They worked together, but Mei couldn't be certain that the mercenary slowly advancing on them wouldn't harm the unconscious woman.

Shifting her weight, Mei made the decision to go with her gut feeling. Lifting her gaze to glance in the masked Talon agent's direction she dove, managing to partially lift Widowmaker from the floor before the bone-rattling sound of Reaper's shotgun made her flinch, compromising her grasp on Widowmaker's upper body. She moved as though to shield the sniper with her body, hearing Genji bark out something before the _ping!_ of metal on metal rang out.

Feeling no pain Mei silently thanked Dr. Ziegler for helping Genji as she had, thanked Genji for his keen eyes and fast reflexes. With a heave she managed to pull Widowmaker behind the relative safety of Genji's person, chill of the ice wall seeping into the back of Mei's neck as she stepped back against it reflexively.

As she lifted her gaze once more Mei swore she saw flickers of green oddly reminiscent of the light in his visor move from the sliver of blade Genji had pulled from the sheath at his back. It faded hardly centimeters from the digits wrapped around the hilt of his katana, brief enough that Mei thought that perhaps she had been mistaken.

“If you will not leave on your own accord,” Genji's voice dropped low, his stance widening out as he spoke. “Then I will make you.”

Again Reaper laughed. That same rusted, mocking sound that raised the little hairs on the back of Mei's neck. The chrome of his shotguns gleamed in the sun as he raised them up to shoulder height, iron-tipped fingers squeezing the triggers with an ease of motion that her brain fixated on. Even as she flinched from the sound, eyes trying to close against her wishes Mei noticed that the mercenary's pattern of fire seemed to begin with the gun in his right hand.

Genji shifted forward, drawing his blade.

A flash of blue that resolved itself into the figure of Tracer launched itself at the masked gunner. As the arc of her descent began the orange-clad woman latched on to one of Reaper's arms, a moment that seemed frozen in time where Mei would have sworn that the two figures made direct eye contact before momentum and Tracer's grasp on Reaper's arm jerked him roughly to the side. Taller, broader than the British woman by no small margin, Tracer couldn't drag him fully to the ground but the mercenary's aim was thrown off by the action – enough that he couldn't immediately fire at her or anyone else.

Genji moved and Mei stared after him, taken by the shine of light off the green-tinged blade as he raised it.

“Such a sweet little snowflake you are.” A voice purred, a French accent rounding out the vowels. An audible gasp passed through the brunette's lips, her eyes widening behind the smudged lens of her glasses. She had believed she had more time, some part of her hoping that the sniper might remain unconscious for just a few minutes longer. Long enough that they might be able to take care of the larger threat. Swallowing hard Mei turned her head to regard the taller woman, momentarily relieved to see Widowmaker's head turned away. As though she were still unconscious and the voice the climatologist had heard nothing more than an auditory hallucination.

The other woman's head turned and Mei saw the suggestion of a smile cross the sniper's face before pain exploded over the front of her throat. Her mouth opened, heat rushing to her face as Mei worked her jaw as though she might speak. No sound emerged. She was only dimly aware of releasing the taller woman, of attempting to lift her hands enough to cover her frozen throat. She couldn't breathe, couldn't feel the pressure of her hand against her own skin or see properly through her glasses for a moment.

Widowmaker moved, letting her drop towards the ground, and the feeling of impact rattled Mei just enough to drag her awareness back from the state of paralysis. Her glasses slipped down her nose, dangling by the ends of the frames behind her ears.

She meant to move, to breathe. Anything before the Talon agent could strike again.

A blur of dark gray and lavender moved in the fuzziness of Mei's vision and another wave of pain erupted from the side of her head before the force behind the blow sent her tumbling to the ground. She fell, not quite striking her head against the ground as she landed and only dimly aware that now the world possessed an indistinct veneer that meant she'd lost her glasses. Past the rushing in her ears Mei could almost make out voices.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she struggled to blink, breath finally creeping past her traumatized throat to start wetting the burn which had begun settling in her lungs.

She only meant to blink. To regain herself. Call out, perhaps, to her comrades so that they would not be taken unawares.

Mei woke to dim green light spilling over her frame, reflected by the ice wall.

 


End file.
